


the personal confidence of a passed over british rail sandwich

by crocs



Series: Things That Go Bump in The (K)night [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Female Eggsy Unwin, Female Friendship, Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocs/pseuds/crocs
Summary: A stifled bit of laughter makes Eggsy lift her head from her palms to meet her friend's eyes."I'm sorry," Amala apologises, giggling profusely all the same, "but this is hilarious. I'm sat here doing nothing all day but reviewing and deleting security tapes for Amanda and you get to see Mark Darcy go all It's Raining Men on your stepdad's mates!"





	the personal confidence of a passed over british rail sandwich

 

Amala takes a sip of her coffee and leans back in the desk chair. She eyes the vampire alerts on her computer screen tiredly. She squints her eyes at one and minimises it.

A creak on the stairs, and then —

"You have a bug on your shoulder, Eggsy," she calls out behind her. Eggsy, who is halfway through the door to the third floor loft, freezes.

"'Lo to you too. That's fucking creepy, you know that?"

Amala decides not to mention that she can see Eggsy's slightly disheveled form reflected on her screen. "If it wasn't, would I do it?"

Eggsy scoffs and rolls her eyes, moving past her and slumping down on the old saggy corduroy sofa. "I wasn't sneakin' up on you anyways. I know better than that, bruv." She takes off her hat and throws it at the coat stand, it landing inhumanely perfectly on one of the hooks. "What do you mean, a bug?"

"I mean," says Amala, putting her mug down on a copy of one of the Watcher Diaries, "someone's put a listening device on your jacket."

"You fucking serious?"

Amala stares at Eggsy impassively.

"Right," Eggsy mutters under her breath. "Ask a stupid question."

Amala pushes her swivel chair from her desk with her feet and propels it towards Eggsy, not getting out of it. "Thanks to the wards that Ms. Rosenberg put up here last time she visited, it's not picking up anything of importance. Just bits of fuzzy pieces, like you're on the Underground or something."

Eggsy puts her head in her hands and groans. "Fuckin' hell, Harry."

Amala grins and swivels around in her chair. "Who's _Harry_?"

"Used to work with my Dad, apparently. Special Ops or Government Secrets or something. Looks sort of like that bloke from Bridget Jones."

"Hugh Grant?"

"No, the other one. He beat up all of Dean's mates and he fuckin' bugged me. What the _fuck_."

A stifled bit of laughter makes Eggsy lift her head from her palms to meet her friend's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Amala apologises, giggling profusely all the same, "but this is hilarious. I'm sat here doing nothing all day but reviewing and deleting security tapes for Amanda and you get to see Mark Darcy go all It's Raining Men on your stepdad's mates!"

Eggsy eyes Amala suspiciously. "When was the last time y' slept?"

"I don't want to answer that." Amala wheels back to her desk. "Anyway, you'd be best keeping that bug on. You don't want him to think something's up."

Eggsy rises from the sofa, much too graceful for someone with her posture. "Do y'think I'm a disappointment? To my dad?"

Amala's eyebrows furrow. "Did I just step into another conversation?"

Eggsy looks at her expectantly.

Amala turns back to her computer. "Of course you're not. You're a well educated —" Eggsy snorts. " — You _are_ , shut up, when was the last time you scored below sixty percent on your Slayer Theory tests? Exactly. Anyway. You might not get maths or English or science all the time but you have common sense in spades. You're physically fit, and a logical thinker and loyal to boot. If Mike Unwin —"

"Lee Unwin," supplies Eggsy.

"—- If _Lee_ Unwin's disappointed in you, I'm disappointed in him. Got it?"

Eggsy nods mutely. "Er, thanks, mate."

"No problem," she replies snappishly, and slams her index finger down too hard on her mouse, the button making an unhappy sound from under her hand.

"Fuck," Eggsy realises. "Dean's going to fucking kill me, bruv. I have to go." She bolts out the door.

Amala says in a monotone voice, "No, wait, don't go," and winces and rubs her ears when the door slams shut behind Eggsy. She maximises her previous alert, reads it and reaches into her handbag for her plastic water bottle, filled with Holy Water.

"It's showtime, boys," she mutters under her breath, and climbs out the back window onto the fire escape, stake still stowed away in her bag.

—

**Author's Note:**

> Title from this passage from _Bridget Jones' Diary_ by Helen Fielding:
> 
> _"When someone leaves you, apart from missing them, apart from the fact that the whole little world you've created together collapses, and that everything you see or do reminds you of them, the worst is the thought that they tried you out and, in the end, the whole sum of parts adds up to you got stamped REJECT by the one you love. How can you not be left with the personal confidence of a passed over British Rail sandwich?"_


End file.
